Contents

  1 Milly-Molly-Mandy Dresses Up

  2 Milly-Molly-Mandy Goes for a Picnic

  3 Milly-Molly-Mandy Has a Clean Frock

  4 Milly-Molly-Mandy and the Golden Wedding

  5 Milly-Molly-Mandy Cooks a Dinner

  6 Milly-Molly-Mandy Acts for the Pictures

  7 Milly-Molly-Mandy and Guy Fawkes Day

  About the Author

  1

  Milly-Molly-Mandy

  Dresses Up

  Once upon a time Milly-Molly-Mandy found an old skirt. She and little-friend-Susan were playing up in the attic of the nice white cottage with the thatched roof (where Milly-Molly-Mandy lived). They had turned out the rag-bags and dressed themselves in all sorts of things – blouses with the sleeves cut off, worn-out curtains, old nightgowns and shirts, and some of Milly-Molly-Mandy’s own outgrown frocks (which Mother kept for patching her present ones, when needed).

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan looked awfully funny – especially when they tried to put on the things which Milly-Molly-Mandy had outgrown. They laughed and laughed.

  (The attic was rather a nice place for laughing in – it sort of echoed.)

  Well, when Milly-Molly-Mandy found the old skirt of Mother’s, of course she put it on. The waist had to fasten round her chest to make it short enough, but that didn’t matter. She put on over it an old jumper with a burnt place in front, but she wore it back to front; so that didn’t matter either.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy walked up and down the attic, feeling just like Mother. She even wore a little brass curtain-ring on the finger of her left hand like Mother.

  And then she had an idea.

  “Let’s both dress up and be ladies,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy.

  “Ooh, yes, let’s,” said little-friend-Susan.

  So they picked out things from the rag-bags as best they could, and little-friend-Susan put on a dress which was quite good in front, only it had no back. She pulled her curls up on to the top of her head and tied them there with a bit of ribbon.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy tucked her hair behind her ears and fastened it behind with a bit of string, so that it made a funny sort of bun.

  “We ought to wear coats and hats,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “then we’d look quite all right.”

  “LET’S BOTH DRESS UP AND BE LADIES”

  So they went downstairs in their long skirts, and Milly-Molly-Mandy took Aunty’s mackintosh from the pegs by the kitchen door for little-friend-Susan, and she borrowed an old jacket of Mother’s for herself. They borrowed their hats too (not their best ones, of course), and went up to Mother’s room to look in the mirror. They trimmed themselves up a bit from the rag-bags, and admired each other, and strutted about, enjoying themselves like anything.

  And just then Mother called up the stairs:

  “Milly-Molly-Mandy?”

  “Yes, Mother?” Milly-Molly-Mandy called down the stairs.

  “When you go out, Milly-Molly-Mandy, please go to the grocer’s and get me a tin of treacle. I shall be wanting some for making gingerbread. I’ve put the money on the bottom stair here.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy said: “Yes, Mother. I’ll just go, Mother.”

  And then Milly-Molly-Mandy looked at little-friend-Susan. And little-friend-Susan looked at Milly-Molly-Mandy. And they said to each other, both at the same time:

  “DARE you to go and get it like this!”

  “Ooh!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy; and “Ooh!” said little-friend-Susan. “Dare we?”

  “I’d have to tuck up my sleeves – they’re too long,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Tell you what, Susan, we might go by the fields instead of down the road; then we wouldn’t meet so many people. Look, I’ll carry a shopping-basket, and you can take an umbrella, because it’s easier when you’ve got something to carry. Come on.”

  So Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan crept downstairs and out at the front door, so that Father and Mother and Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle and Aunty mightn’t see them. And they went down the front path to the gate.

  But there was a horse and cart clip-clopping along the road, so they hung back and waited till it went by. And what do you think? The man driving it saw someone’s back-view behind the gate, and he must have taken for granted it was Mother or Aunty or Grandma, for he called out, “Morning, ma’am!” as he passed.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan were so pleased they laughed till they had to hold each other up. But it made them feel much better.

  They straightened their hats and hitched their skirts, and then they opened the gate and walked boldly across the road to the stile in the hedge on the other side.

  It was quite a business getting over that stile. Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan had to rearrange themselves carefully again on the other side.

  Then, with their basket and umbrella, the two ladies set off along the narrow path across the field.

  “Now, we mustn’t laugh,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Ladies don’t laugh a lot, not outdoors. We shall give ourselves away if we keep laughing.”

  “No,” said little-friend-Susan, “we mustn’t. But suppose we meet Billy Blunt?”

  “We mustn’t run, either,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “Ladies don’t run much.”

  “No,” said little-friend-Susan, “we mustn’t. But I do hope we don’t meet Billy Blunt.”

  “So do I,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “I’d like to meet him worst of anybody. He’d be sure to know us. We mustn’t keep looking round, either, Susan. Ladies don’t keep on looking round.”

  “I was only wondering if anyone could see us,” said little-friend-Susan.

  But there were only cows on the far side of the meadow, and they weren’t at all interested in the two rather short ladies walking along the narrow path.

  Soon Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan came to the stile into Church Lane. This was a rather high stile, and while she was getting over it the band of Milly-Molly-Mandy’s skirt slipped from her chest to her waist, and her feet got tangled in the length of it. She came down on all fours into the grass at the side, with her hat over one eye. But, luckily, she just got straightened up before they saw the old gardener-man who looked after the churchyard coming along up the lane with his wheelbarrow.

  “Let’s wait till he’s gone,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy. “We’ll be looking in my basket, so we needn’t look up.”

  So they rummaged in the basket (which held only a bit of paper with the money in it), and talked in ladylike tones, until the old gardener-man had passed by.

  He stared rather, and looked back at them once, but the two ladies were too busy to notice him.

  When he was safely through the churchyard gate they went down the lane till they came to the forge at the bottom. Mr Rudge the Blacksmith was banging away on his anvil. He was a nice man, and Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan thought it would be fun to stop and see what he thought of them. So they stood at the doorway and watched him hammering at a piece of red-hot iron he was holding with his tongs.

  Mr Rudge glanced up at them. And then he looked down. And then he went on hammering. And then he turned and put the piece of iron into the furnace. And while he worked the handle of the big bellows slowly up and down (to make the fire burn hot) he looked at them again over his shoulder, and said:

  “Good morning, ladies. It’s a warm day today.”

  “Yes, it is,” agreed Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan. (They were feeling very warm indeed, though it wasn’t at all sunny out.)

  “Visitors in these parts, I take it,” said the Blacksmith.

  “Yes, we are,” agreed Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan.

  Then Milly-Molly-Mandy said: “Can you tell us if there is a good grocer’s shop anywhere round here?”

  “Let me see, now,” said the Blacksmith, thinking hard. “Yes, I believe there is. Try going to the end of this lane, here, and turn sharp right – very sharp, mind. Then look both ways at once, and cross the road. You’ll maybe see one.”

  Then he took his iron out, all red-hot, and began hammering at it again to shape it.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan couldn’t be quite sure whether Mr Rudge knew them or not. They were just thinking of going on when – who should come round the corner of Mr Blunt’s corn-shop but Billy Blunt himself!

  Billy Blunt noticed the two rather odd-looking ladies standing in front of the forge. And he noticed one of them pull the other’s sleeve, which came right down over her hand. And then they both turned and walked up the lane.

  He thought they looked a bit queer somehow –

  short and rather crumpled. So he stopped at the forge and asked the Blacksmith:

  “Who are those two?”

  “Lady-friends of mine,” said the Blacksmith, turning the iron and getting hold of it in a different place. “Lady-friends. Known ’em for years.”

  Billy Blunt waited, but the Blacksmith didn’t say anything more. So he began strolling up the lane after the two ladies, who were near the stile by now.

  The lady in the mackintosh seemed to be a bit flustered, whispering to the other. Then the other one said (so that he could hear):

  “I seem to have lost my shopping-list, it isn’t in my basket. Have you got it, dear?”

  Billy Blunt strolled nearer. He wanted to see their faces.

  “No, I haven’t got it,” said the first one. “We’d better go home and look for it. Oh, dear, I think it’s comi

ng on to rain. I felt a little spit. I must put up my umbrella.”

  And she opened it and held it over them both, so that Billy Blunt couldn’t see so much of them.

  He strolled a bit nearer, and stopped to pick an unripe blackberry from the hedge and put it in his mouth. He wanted to see the ladies climb over the stile.

  But they waited there, rummaging in their basket and talking of the rain. Billy Blunt couldn’t feel any rain. Presently he heard the lady with the basket say in a rather pointed way:

  “I wonder what that little boy thinks he’s doing there? He ought to go home.”

  And, quite suddenly, that’s what the “little boy” did. At any rate he hurried off down the lane and out of sight.

  Then Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan, very relieved, picked up their skirts and scrambled over the stile, and set off back across the fields. There was nobody to see them now but the cows, so they ran, laughing and giggling and tumbling against each other among the buttercups all the way across.

  And by the time they got back to the first stile, just opposite the nice white cottage with the thatched roof (where Milly-Molly-Mandy lived), you never saw such a funny-looking pair of ladies!

  Little-friend-Susan’s hat-trimming had come off, and Milly-Molly-Mandy had stepped right out of her rag-bag skirt after it had tripped her up three times, and they were both so out of breath with giggling that they could hardly climb over on to the road.

  But the moment they landed on the other side somebody jumped out at them from the hedge. And WHO do you suppose it was?

  Yes, of course! It was Billy Blunt.

  He had run all the way round by the road, just for the fun of facing them as they came across that stile.

  “Huh! Think I didn’t know you?” he asked, breathing hard. “I knew you at once.”

  “Then why didn’t you speak to us?” asked little-friend-Susan.

  “Think I’d want to speak to either of you looking like that?” said Billy Blunt, grinning.

  “I don’t believe you did know us, not just at once,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “or you’d have said something, even if it was rude!”

  “Look!” said little-friend-Susan. “There’s someone coming. Let’s go in quick!”

  So they scurried across the road and through the garden gate. And just then Milly-Molly-Mandy’s mother came out to pick a handful of flowers for the table.

  “Well, goodness me!” said Mother. “Whatever’s all this?”

  “We were just dressing up,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, “when you wanted us to go to the village—”

  “And we dared each other to go like this—” said little-friend-Susan.

  “I saw the two guys talking to the Blacksmith—” said Billy Blunt.

  “Anyhow,” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, hopping on each leg in turn, her rag-bag hat-trimming looping over one eye, “we did dare, didn’t we, Susan?”

  “Well, well!” said Mother. “And where’s my tin of treacle?”

  Milly-Molly-Mandy stopped.

  “We forgot all about it! I’m sorry, Mother. We’ll go now!”

  “Not like that!” said Mother. “You take my coat off, and go in and tidy yourselves first. And the attic too.”

  “I’ll run and get the treacle for you,” said Billy Blunt. “ ’Spect I stopped ’em – they’d got almost as far as the grocer’s, anyhow.”

  “Yes, he scared us!” said Milly-Molly-Mandy, handing him Mother’s money out of the basket. “He followed us along and never said a word. He thought we were proper ladies, that’s why!”

  “Thought you were proper guys,” said Billy Blunt, going out of the gate.

  2

  Milly-Molly-Mandy

  Goes for a Picnic

  Once upon a time Milly-Molly-Mandy was going for a picnic.

  It was a real, proper picnic. Father and Mother and Uncle and Aunty were all going too, and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt (because it wouldn’t seem quite a real, proper picnic without little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt).

  They were going to take the red bus from the cross-roads to a specially nice picnic place, where Milly-Molly-Mandy hadn’t ever been before because it was quite a long way off. (The nicest places often do seem to be quite a long way off, somehow.)

  Grandpa and Grandma weren’t going. They said they would rather stay at home in the nice white cottage with the thatched roof, and keep house and milk the cows if the picnickers weren’t back in time.

  It was a quiet, misty sort of morning, which looked as if it meant to turn out a fine hot day, as Father and Mother and Uncle and Aunty and Milly-Molly-Mandy (and Toby the dog) set off down the road to the village, carrying the picnic things.

  MILLY-MOLLY-MANDY WAS GOING FOR A PICNIC

  When they came to the Moggs’ cottage little-friend-Susan (in a clean cotton frock) was ready and waiting for them at the gate.

  And when they came to Mr Blunt’s corn-shop Billy Blunt (in a new khaki shirt with pockets) was ready and waiting for them by the side-door.

  And when they came to the cross-roads the red bus was already at the bus-stop. And as, of course, it wouldn’t wait long for them, they all had to run like anything. But they just caught it, and climbed inside.

  Father took the tickets.

  Let’s see: Father and Mother and Uncle and Aunty – that’s four grown-up tickets. And little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt and Milly-Molly-Mandy – that’s three half-tickets. (Father had asked the bus-conductor as they got on, “Do you mind the dog?” And the bus-conductor didn’t, so Toby rode under the seat for nothing.)

  Milly-Molly-Mandy said to little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt as the bus went rattling along: “You haven’t been to this place before, have you?” (hoping they hadn’t).

  Billy Blunt said: “Once. But I don’t remember it. I was young then.”

  Little-friend-Susan said: “No. But my father and mother went a long time ago, and they say it’s a nice place, and there’s a wishing-well there, and you can drop a pin in and wish.”

  Billy Blunt said: “Don’t believe in wishing-wells. Can’t make things come true. Not if they aren’t really.”

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy said: “Oh, neither do I. But it’s fun to pretend!”

  And little-friend-Susan thought so too.

  When they came to the next village (where the bus turned round ready to go back again) they all had to get out and walk. Father and Mother and Uncle and Aunty walked in twos, and Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt walked all in a bunch. And Toby the dog ran here and there, snorting into holes and getting his nose muddy. (He did enjoy it!)

  The sun shone hot now, and they began to get quite thirsty. But Mother said: “We’re nearly there, and then you can have a nice drink at the well!” And Aunty gave them some fruit-sweets wrapped in coloured papers.

  Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan put their sweet-wrappers into their baskets, and Billy Blunt put his into one of his shirt pockets, to throw away when they got home.

  Father said: “Well, anyone can see you’ve been properly brought up!”

  He wished everyone who used that path did the same. He kept poking other people’s bits of sweet-paper and orange-peel into the hedge with his stick as he went along, because they made the path look so nasty.

  Mother said: “I think a place ought to look nicer because we’ve been there, not nastier!”

  And Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan thought the same. Billy Blunt found a stick, and helped to poke the litter away too.

  At last they came to the specially nice picnic place. And it really was almost like a fairy glen, with daisies and buttercups, and grassy slopes, and trees to climb, and a little stream running through the middle.

  But – other people must have been there for picnics too, for – would you believe it? – they had left paper bags and egg-shells and litter everywhere. (And it almost spoiled everywhere, I can tell you.)

  “Oh, dear!” said Father and Mother and Uncle and Aunty, looking all about.

  “Where’s the wishing-well?” asked Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt, looking all about too.

  Father led the way to where some big, old trees were stooping round as if trying to hide something. And in behind them Milly-Molly-Mandy and little-friend-Susan and Billy Blunt saw a deep round hole in a wet rock which was simply covered over with beautiful green ferns and moss. And water, sparkling like crystal and cold as ice, was dripping down into it over the mossy rocks at the back.

 

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